"Who the fuck said you could do that!" Jonathan screamed at me.
"No one did. I didn't want to go to her party because I didn't want to hook up with you. And I still don't want to," I told him in a hushed voice.
We were arguing over hooking up. Isn't that ridiculous? A boy yelling at me because I won't make out with him.
"It's not your choice Lexi. You owe this to me, now get in," he said and pulled my hand into his friends car.
"I'm not going with you," I said even quieter. He was getting in my face and gripping me even harder. Why wasn't anyone around me doing something about it?
"Oh my god you fucking prude. You always," he stopped talking when he saw a tear run down my cheek, "is the prude really crying?"
Then he started laughing like the madman he is. He took my small face in his hand and pushed my hair back. Without even hesitating, he slapped me. Hard, on my left cheek.
"I'll fucking get you. And when I do you're going to love it," Jonathan said, got into the car, and drove off.
I started crying. I've never been able to hold in my pain and especially not tears. I sat there on the street bench in the dark, crying, until I heard someone call out to me.
"Hey! You alright?" A tall boy with shaggy blonde hair yelled out to me. He was surrounded by a bunch of boys on skateboards, some smoking weed, some just laughing to themselves. They were a very interesting group.
I nodded back to him, but I guess the boy saw me get hit.
"My god, no you're not," he sat next to me on the bench and studied my face with his deep blue eyes.
I took his hand off my cheek, "I'm really ok."
"Baby your face is hurt, you can't be. What's your name?" The boy who introduced himself as Austin asked.
I just shook my head.
Austin seemed to enjoy looking at me. He looked at my white mini skirt and my light pink halter top. He rubbed my soft thighs and played with my long brown hair. I don't know why I let him, for some reason I actually liked being touched like that.
"I don't want you to let boys do that to you. It's fucking insane, do you understand?" he said.
Without responding, I turned my head and kissed him. He held my hips and I could taste him perfectly. It was like cigarettes and lemonade. For some crazy reason, I loved that taste.
When I pulled back after a minute or so, he smiled at me, "You beautiful girl."
"Will you take me home, I'm only a ten minute walk from," he put a finger over my mouth.
"Say no more," Austin laughed, "guys I'm taking her home. See you whenever."
The walk was silent except for a few times when he would tell me not to cry (because I would start crying again).
"Is this it?" Austin asked in a depressed tone, almost like he didn't want to leave me.
"Come in," I smiled. He smiled back.
What was I doing?
